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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26909683">Euchloe Tagis</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Falling In Love, Hanahaki Disease, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love Study, M/M, Minimalistic Tagging, Reminiscing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:07:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26909683</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“In the language of flowers, the candytuft symbolizes indifference, sweetness, and stoic beauty.”</p><p>It began as Atsumu, then the second years, then the third and first years. Eventually, all eyes turned to look at him. Suna looked back, trying to meet all of them at once. His neck suddenly felt like on fire, tingling and scorching a path down his spine.</p><p>“I’m the one killing him.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Iberis gibraltarica</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: hospital setting, minor blood; normal things to expect for a Hanahaki AU</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If there was one thing Suna hated the most, it was falling into the beat of another. Perhaps hate was too strong of a word, it was simply a disdain for certain things. He found metronomes, that seemed to beat ever so steadily as if that time was that important, unbearable. He couldn’t stand when blockers tried to play his mind game and vowed to spike past them to break that. He despised the statistics book that dictated the chances that something would occur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hence, he looked with disgust at the numbers that said that Hanahaki would occur to two percent of the population with as much hatred as he could muster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But two percent wasn’t high and he never thought he’d encounter it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only thing was that his middle school teachers would harp on the fact simply because it </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> happen to anyone. Listening to those lectures only heightened his will to avoid it at all costs. And as the years blurred together, meshing into nothing but a few photo books, he entered high school. By then, he was convinced he would never have Hanahaki.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t the type to fall in love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some stupid numbers won’t hurt him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe they call you the quiet one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And here he was, more than two year into high school sitting with the rest of the volleyball second years during lunch, which really was just typically him, the twins, Ginjima, and Kosaku, but same difference. In short, this was the friend group he ended in, unfortunately permanently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well normally it was the whole group up on the rooftop, in the corner by the fence, but today it was just him and Osamu. Who knew where Atsumu was, Ginjima had class errands to run and Kosaku opted to stay in the classroom that day. Something about allergies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu rolled his eyes, “I am compared to Tsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doubt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu shook his head, tsking in the process.  “Trust issues, and I thought we were friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are?” He closed his bento box, meeting the other’s eyes with another pointed stare and then drawled out in his most sarcastic tone, “I wasn’t aware of that fact.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So mean,” Osamu stuck out his tongue. “I’ll cry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good for you.” Suna deadpanned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu scrunched up his nose and continued to eat into his lunch. It was truly a wonder where he got the time to make his own lunches and eat them all. Irrelevant, but one of the great mysteries of Inarizaki High’s Miya Osamu. Self-proclaimed mysteries at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm--” Osamu pointed through the fence with his chopsticks. Suna followed Osamu’s eyes past the fence. He squinted, as far as he could see, there was just a girl there, in the courtyard. A third year by the colors. She had long wavy hair and seemed like one of those popular clique types. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked, confused, “What? You interested?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu swallowed, fake gagging, “As if. That’s ‘Tsumu’s date of the week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right on cue, a head of faux blonde hair walked around to the fountain. The girl seemed elated to see him and latched onto his arm immediately. “Ah, of course. Gross.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely disgusting,” Osamu agreed, nodding sagely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna just chuckled playfully. That, they could agree on. If it seemed like trash talking Atsumu was one of their hobbies, good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See, I’m the quiet one compared to </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough.” Suna conceded, tearing his eyes from the scene. It was disgustingly sweet, despite the fact they would probably only last a week until Atsumu dumped her. But something dark brewed in his stomach just looking at that scene. The way, even though for a little time, they looked happy. Overjoyed. Willing to fall into probability.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu clicked his chopsticks together, “He’s such a jerk, I dunno how he gets someone to confess every week. Ugh, can’t relate, I would never go out with someone on a whim.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Interesting choice of words. “Sounds like you got someone in mind already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Somethin’ like that. But sadly ‘m, single. What about ya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna shrugged. “If I was dating someone, you’d probably know. Therefore no, not interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awh so ya do think of us as friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clicked his tongue, stretching out and clicking on his phone. “Sure, whatever. Only if you help me on that homework due in ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya asshole--” Osamu began before pausing halfway through the sentence. “Give me a second. I’ll get it,” Osamu rushed out as he excused himself. If the twin took a whole five minutes to get the papers when the walk to their classroom was only one minute there and one back, Suna didn’t question it at the time. Maybe he had misplaced his assignment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And everyone had their own secrets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until it’s not a secret.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was another day of practice. They didn’t have any games recently and had fallen into the flow of just practicing among the team. Perhaps if he wasn’t too busy lost in his own thoughts, he could’ve seen how it played out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing he should’ve noticed was that it was quieter. The Miya twins weren’t making another ridiculous bet or whatnot. Largely due to the fact, if he paid attention, that Osamu didn’t rise up to Atsumu challenging him. The second thing was Osamu’s eyes kept darting everywhere, meeting his a few times before flickering towards the door. Did he have other plans? The third being during the game, Osamu’s shoes touched the ground milliseconds before they normally do after a jump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meaning the jumps were lower. Weaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then it happened during the last set. Osamu jumped to meet the set and Suna met that on the other side of the net, waiting for the ball to bounce off his arms. But it never happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ball bounced lifelessly back onto the floor. Alongside the grey-haired boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud thump was followed up by, “Fuck, someone help him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The split second of shock was tipped aside, unfreezing the frame as everyone began to move. Everything was ringing in his ears, there was shouting and the sound of shoes against the floor. And blood. Blood finding a new home on the floors. Blood splattered at odd angles, crimson dotting his vision. And he dared not look away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone call the coach!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt himself running over, barely ducking under the net. But everything was lost after that. His eyes refused to focus on the scene, instead giving him pixelated colors. The black and whites of their uniform. The grey silver of Osamu’s hair. The reds on white lines of the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or was that the blood and petals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, or maybe not fast enough, there were sirens wailing in the background soon enough, more and more footsteps making their way into the gym. Orders were issued and soon enough, the rest of the team was rushed onto the ambulance, all with varying levels of crazed looks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang in there, Samu,” Atsumu demanded, finally letting go of his brother’s hand as they were separated by the hospital staff. “Ya better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And all he could do, was helplessly follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya can go in now,” Atsumu announced, walking down the hallway to the waiting room. He collapsed on the chair next to Suna, “Go ahead, yer his best friend.” It was past midnight by then and most of the team had left, sleep deprived and tomorrow was a school day. But he stayed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna brushed past the blonde, “I’ll be back soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Receiving the directions from Atsumu and the go ahead from the front desk, he trailed down the hospital until he reached his destination. He knocked twice before entering. Dark brown eyes stared at him from the dark. They were eerie, reflecting the moon in all the ways that would make a normal person swoon under normal conditions at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’d you stay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna made his way over. “I wanted to, plus the whole team came here together. Some are just more diligent students.” He scanned the room, the beeping of the machines were ticking him off. “So, care to tell us what’s going on? Other than the obvious.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of your business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says the one that insists we’re friends. You know the choices, pick one.” Suna breathed heavily, leaning against the far wall and crossing his arms. “We all saw the flowers. And you know how the rest of them are going to act. We both do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu shuffled around in the dark, rolling around so that only his back was facing Suna. It was falling at a steady rate. “I can’t. It’s not that simple.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just can’t. They don’t love me back like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if he could sympathize with that when he’s never been in love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu looked up with devious eyes. “You wouldn’t understand, Mr. Emotionless. ‘Sides, I’m a real gentleman, I need time to woo someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You fucking wish,” Suna bantered back, falling back onto the only thing he knew how to do. No, he didn’t know how to console someone, but he did know how to shoot back snarky remarks. Back into the little bubble he called his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t have been the one who was sent in first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember when we first met?” Osamu interrupted his thoughts with a low question. “First day of school at Inarizaki.”</span>
</p><p><span>“Mn,” Suna leaned back, not even hesitating to fill in the blanks. It was a story he knew by the back of his hand.</span> <span>“Sure.</span> <span>In fact, it was directly the third class of the day and I was already exhausted at the notion of more classes.” The start of the school year was always the hardest, with people wanting to introduce themselves, even worse, teachers making them introduce themselves. Starting a school without knowing anyone was hard, for sure. But honestly, he didn’t want friends being forced onto him. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Ya we slumped over yer desk”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I didn’t see you two approaching.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu left out a breathy laugh. “And I told ya that yer stoich.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna felt a grin tug at his lips. “I hoped it was a nightmare. It wasn’t.” There was a grey-haired boy standing in front of him that day. A similar looking boy hanging over his shoulder. Twins, Suna concluded. “I corrected you, saying I think you meant stoic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy in the memory fumbled around with a book in his hand. A dictionary. “Um, yeah that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then I called you a dumbass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsumu never let me get over that.” Osamu put on a fake Atsumu accent, despite the fact they all sounded the same to Suna, “Oh my god Samu yer so dumb. He literally called ya a dumbass.” Later, he learned their names. Miya Osamu and Miya Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna rolled his eyes at the antics. “And I thought that was it, until clubs started.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsumu pointed ya out immediately once ya stepped into the gym. I tried to smother him. And then we played a practice round, just like today. And--” He stopped mid-sentence, curling up on the bed and clutching his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Osamu--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” He wheezed out. “Finish the story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna closed his eyes, confused, but continued. “I blocked your hit, and you said I wouldn’t get the next one, smirking and waving. I joined the club and promised myself not to get caught up in your ways. The end. Now here we are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya tell it so boringly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the one who told me to finish. Plus, it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> interesting. Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was silence. Suna shifted, moving himself to the other side of the bed so he could meet Osamu’s eyes. His eyes were bloodshot, from tears or sleep deprivation or both. Suna couldn’t tell. He waited for a reply. “Nothing, just was wonderin’ because I miss those times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound ridiculously old now,” Suna poked fun at him. But deep inside, he knew what it meant. They won’t be on the same side of the court again. They’d never be able to recite that story together again just like they used to do during the occasional lunches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m hardly older than ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But still young. Too young to fall victim to a disease that grows flowers in your lungs. Too innocent to leave the world so soon. “Shut up and get well soon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu chuckled. “Whatever ya want, Sunarin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A week after Osamu was released from the hospital and put in house rest, the entire team was still stumped on how to help. He had seriously outdone himself in acting like everything was alright, so much so that not even his own brother knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our rooms are like on opposite sides of the house? How was I supposed to notice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the flowers were gone by now and they had nothing to go off. Osamu refused to speak about it and also scoffed every time someone brought up the operation. The best they had was an approximate timeline that it must have started two to three weeks ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And to their best guess, it was someone in their school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that was their dead end. Until one day, Atsumu busted through the gym doors with a grin. Instinctively, Suna scooted away, not wanting to deal with his bouts of energy, but when he saw what he was holding, his eyes widened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup, He did a good job of hiding them, but I found one.” Atsumu whipped out a flower triumphantly. It had snow white petals, that bloomed outwards in layers, tiny yellow speckles of pollen dotting the center. Well more like it would’ve been snow white if there weren’t hints of blood staining the corner like some sort of curse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all looked at it curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyone know what it is?” someone asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shrugged, “Beats me, I don’t know a damn thing about flowers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that helps,” Suna said exasperatedly yet gently taking a hold of it and examining it. Delicate and ever so deadly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the team silently pulled out their phones, some snapping photos and beginning cross checking with internet sources. Others simply went on a limb guessing common flowers. Suna was one in the prior group, hoping his picture would register something in the search engine that would lead them to some sort of answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After pages of white flowers that looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> like the one in front of him, he was close to just giving in. Like he knew anything about flowers either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, after ten or so tense minutes. “Isn’t that a candytuft?” All eyes turned to look at a first year, a relatively new member that Suna couldn’t recall the name of. The player turned their phone over so everyone could see the search results. It looked pretty much the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He proceeded to read off a website about said flower “</span>
  <em>
    <span>In the language of flowers, the candytuft symbolizes indifference, sweetness, and stoic beauty.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That’s what it says here? Does that help?</span>
  <em>
    <span>”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It began as Atsumu, then the second years, then the third and firsts. Eventually, all eyes turned to look at him. He looked back, trying to meet all of them at once. His neck suddenly felt like on fire, tingling and scorching a path downwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m the one killing him.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Posting a little earlier than I expected, even though this did take a month plus to write, I didn’t want to interfere with the actual fic week because I hardly know what I’m doing...also impulsively doing this one night so I'm sleeping immediately after. </p><p>I'm probably tired. Please go ahead and correct my grammar/continuity. Yes, I receive comments even on anonymous. </p><p>Notes: </p><p>"Iberis /aɪˈbɪərɪs/, commonly called candytuft, is a genus of flowering plants belonging to the family Brassicaceae. The name "candytuft" is not related to candy, but derives from Candia, the former name of Iraklion on the Island of Crete." <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iberis">Wikipedia</a></p><p>"In the language of flowers, the candytuft symbolizes Sweetness, Stoic Beauty, Indifference" <a href="http://www.daleharvey.com/Directory/articles-of-interest/LANGUAGE+OF+FLOWERS/Meaning+of+Flowers.html">Dale Harvey</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Iberis sempervirens</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first time he went to visit the Miya household, he did so out of guilt. He’d been there at least a million times ever since they'd met. Exaggeration obvious but it sure felt like it. It was routine, knocking twice on the door after climbing the two mini steps up to the porch and listening to the sound of footsteps thumping down the steps. Osamu opened the door. “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fucking sky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn can’t relate, been stuck at home all day. Come on in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna hesitated, glancing inside. He caught a tuft of blonde hair on the couch and everything came back to him. It was his fault. If he went in, he would have to face it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would have to face the fact he was killing his best friend without knowing it. He would be hurting the person that loved him, maybe even accelerating the disease. He was a poison that was just waiting to attack. But their time together was limited, what if he never saw Osamu again. Hell, he was never good at decisions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, actually I’ll pass. Just here to check if you’re alive. Great, got to go. See you.” He blurted out instead, voice wavering more than normal. Turning as quick as he could, he sped walk down the steps, nearly slipping over one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hah wait--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a mistake to turn back and see Osamu doubling over, clutching the door frame for support. He could hear Atsumu shouting and knew it was his que to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was someone better than him that was there. He was dead weight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, Suna darted away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So ya dropped by two days ago.” Atsumu approached him during practice, asking with an air of indifference. But the underlying tone was accusing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s sharp stare fell on him. “Ya didn’t come in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He averted his gaze. “I had other things to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, I see,” Atsumu intoned, spinning a volleyball in his hands ever so carefully before taking two steps forward and serving it across the net. “I see,” he repeated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna watched it in silent observation. “Any problem with that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you liar. We’re in the same class and we just had an exam. No homework. You aren’t in any clubs outside of volleyball and don’t take outside school classes.” The blonde rattled off with terrifying accuracy. “Ya know it’s you, so goddam do something. Or he’ll die.” Atsumu concluded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that all you have to say for yerself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t have time to think over it yet, why don’t you let me consider my own feelings,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he wanted to say. But instead all that came out was, “Give me time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s face contorted into one of anger, and his hand flung out to grip Suna’s shirt, shaking him back and forth with each sentence. “Time? You think we have </span>
  <em>
    <span>time</span>
  </em>
  <span> now? We’re fightin’ against a disease that progresses with time. Why the hell are ya still so calm?” His voice raised with every syllable. “Dontcha understand? My brother is dying. His lungs are blooming flowers because of you. He’s suffering because of you. He can’t play besides me, no us, because of ya. Don’t you get it? Or do ya only care about yourself, you selfish coward.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the end of Atsumu’s rant, white noise had filled his head, and he wanted nothing more than to make it stop. Make it stop. If Osamu were here--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he wasn’t there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was his fault. Entirely his fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew Atsumu was still shaking him and the gym was erupting into chaos. He knew Atsumu was yelling at him out of love for his brother. He knew Atsumu was right; he was a coward. He knew Atsumu thought loving was easy because he’d been there before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s enough, Atsumu,” Kita put a hand out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you not fucking understand?” Atsumu continued to shriek in hysteria. “He loves you and refuses to get the surgery. He’ll die. He’s going to die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna felt a tingle in his arm, he grit his teeth to prevent himself from lashing out as well. Anger wouldn’t solve anything. He felt the hand leave his collar at least as members of their team seemed to drag Atsumu away. But the shouting never ended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hell is wrong with you? You heartless coward. Don’t you feel anything at all, bastard. Give him a chance, don’t let him die like this.” He opened his eyes to see Atsumu let out a broken sob, collapsing on his knees. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dipped his head, monotonously stating, “some people aren’t meant to love” like he was reading a passage out of a novel. It was so quiet after that. Maybe only the people close to him, Aran and Akagi, heard him, but it was alright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are ya making excuses now?” Atsumu whispered in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna turned away from the scene. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he ran from the scene once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginjima let Suna know that he sided with Atsumu the day after, jogging up to him one morning as soon as he entered the gates. “You better do something about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound exactly as Atsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was too early in the morning to deal with emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he’s right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna frowned, “I know. He’s right, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>always is</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He drawled sarcastically, sending an unamused glare at the other. While he knew Ginjima came from good intentions, he just wasn't in the mood to deal with other’s opinions. “Kindly leave me the fuck alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least Ginjima was quick to take the note and let him be after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Love was simple for them: quick to jump off a bridge for love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second time he visited, he stepped past the entrance, toeing off his shoes and bowing at his intrusion. It was still as he remembered, entertainment slash living room to the right and stairs to the left. Kitchen further down the hall and with a left turn. Some training equipment in the space next to it. And upstairs was basically for studying and sleeping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu opened the door this time, nodding in approval as he sent Suna upstairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He creaked open the door to Osamu’s room slowly, the other was lying in bed, tapping away on his phone. Suna caught sight of some words before the phone was clicked off and turned over on the bed. “Yo, what-- wait the hell’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your homework.” Suna bluntly stated, taking out a binder of missed notes and assignments out of his bag. Every single subject, compiled together. Even if the teachers weren’t aware of Hanahaki, they all knew Osamu was on leave due to health issues and bid him their best wishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m literally dying, Suna, do I hafta do homework?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flipped open to the first page, tapping a pencil on the page. “If you’re going back to school when you recover, don’t get dumber.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tch, I’ll probably never return at this rate.” Osamu yawned into his hands. “Why couldn’t ya bring games or something over? I’m bored out of my mind. Like literally, you wanna know how many gacha games I have now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not particularly,” Suna rolled his eyes. “Plus, you might as well try to learn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu flicked at the pencil playfully, “Boring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll help pass time.” Suna sighed, taking the pencil back and pulling out his own work. “Come on, we can study together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such a kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrong answer apparently. “And ya called me senile days ago.” Or maybe the right answer since Osamu finally sat up and scooted next to him on the bed, at least focusing his eyes on the page. Suna counted that as a win in his books.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touch</span>
  <span>é</span>
  <span>,” he mumbled back, pretending to work on his work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he was just scratching random numbers on the page. His attention was actually focused on how close Osamu was to him. He never gave it much thought, how Osamu always sat next to him, how he always invited him over and only him, and how he had figured this was the norm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet all of a sudden, it wasn't just as friends. All this time, was he just blind to the signs? Could he have prevented the Hanahaki before it began, he asked himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi the hell you’d get that answer from?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna stared down at his work. Truth be told, it looked right, but he had absolutely no clue how he got there. “Um,” he said intelligently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool, cool, no problemo I’ll just copy yer work real quick and--” Osamu grinned, snatching Suna’s work and scribbling down a few notes. He didn’t bother to try to get it back, knowing full well from experience that it was an impossible mission. “And now we’re done. Woohoo, time to go back to doing absolutely nothing with my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You absolute ass,” Suna cursed, grabbing his notes back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu looked around in mock oblivion, “Who ya talkin’ about?” Suna blinked, unamused, before Osamu burst out into full hearted laughter, collapsing on his back and laying his head on Suna’s lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna scanned the body resting on his. He’d seen it over and over in cliche tropes. If this was some sappy novel, his heart would be pounding and maybe he’d be flustered as red started to rise in his cheeks. But nothing happened. It just felt like a weight on his leg. Silently, he blamed himself, for never being able to understand. “Get off, I need to finish my other assignments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hah? There’s more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhmm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu pouted again, “Nah, later’s issue.” He turned on his phone instead, lifting it about his face and began typing as Suna tried to work around by positioning his arms to the left. And they laid there for the longest time. With Suna’s back to the headboard and legs stretched out, arms to the side to write the occasional note or two. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu began on his back, head on Suna’s thighs until his arms grew tired and turned onto his stomach, elbows propping him up and occasionally meeting Suna’s gaze. From time to time, he’d excuse himself from the room for some water, but Suna wasn’t deaf, he could hear Osamu trying to dislodge those flowers in the bathroom. But he’d come back just like normal, pretending like everything was alright and reclaim his space on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And every time their eyes met, Osamu gave him a small smile. Was it an encouraging one or something with a second meaning?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour or so later, Suna deemed his progress enough to warrant a break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you working on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu peered up from typing, another small smile on his face. “It’s a secret for now. Y’all see one day. One day, I promise ya.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do promises mean anything if you’re gone?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aran was the second to approach him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How ya hanging in there?” After practice, the rest of the team was cleaning up the gym and Suna was taking a rest on the bleachers. Today’s practice was weaker than normal and he wondered if that was due to a certain member missing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat down next to Suna, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna crossed his arms, acting like the spot on the wall was the most interesting thing in the world. “What? Are you doing to interrogate me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, why would I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You heard me for sure back then. It’s true, I don’t know how to love someone, let alone my best friend. If I could, I would, but I can’t. Never had a first love, never had a crush, never had my heart beat out of my chest. I can’t change that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It takes time, you’ll learn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna flinched. “I doubt it. Not for me at least. Most of the time, I’m indifferent to everything, the world around me.” He waved at the court, “But, sometimes I get that thrill of being on court. Most things are to the extremes, nothing or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loving someone is like that thrill then, learn to accept it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Suna murmured, storing that little line within his memory. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks for everything, Aran.” He bowed respectfully as his senior before heading off. He brushed past Omimi on the way to the locker room.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The latter did nothing but watch from the sides. Giving him a short nod before walking off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he silently sat in the changing room himself, twiddling his fingers around and replaying the past days over and over in his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just need to create my own love from dust,” he spoke out loud to no one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words sounded bitter on his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easier said than fucking done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Third time’s a charm they say. “Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu peered up from scrolling through his phone. “What brings ya back here?” Suna glanced over at the phone again. The notes app was open again. Whatever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing much, just checking in on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu clutched his heart dramatically, grinning through his teeth. “So touching, I’d think ya cared if ya continue to do this, Suna.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And is that a bad thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. Suna turned away, to take something out of his bag, giving Osamu time to spit out a few flowers into the trash can. He turned back around when the lid closed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brought a movie, figured you’re bored.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, finally freed from homework. Yer a lifesaver.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Liar, I’m killing you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Just watch the damn movie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu flicked his shoulder, gesturing for Suna to join him on the bed. It was only mildly cramped on there, but not new. The only difference being instead of a bucket of popcorn shared between them, there was a can full of flowers that smelled sickeningly sweet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clicked the play button.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they watched the movie like always, throwing snarky comments at the characters when they did something or a specific overused trope was used. “Why the hell’d they do that,” Osamu would point and mock and Suna would swat his hand down even if he wholeheartedly agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After all, there was no point for the main character to bike dramatically through the rain to reach the heroine when he had a car two scenes prior. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halfway through, he felt Osamu drift off, leaning against his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Any other time, he wouldn’t give it a second thought, just tease him when he woke. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>it takes time</span>
  </em>
  <span> to love, Aran had said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It takes effort</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So with hesitance, he brought his arm up, wrapping it around Osamu’s back, hand resting on the other’s shoulder. Small steps, he told himself as he pulled Osamu closer and pulled the blankets up on them. Not bad, he told himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calming and comforting, but none of that thrill he expected to feel. Nothing like jumping off a cliff, not like he was speaking from experience but, it wasn’t like being on court. Nothing like Aran would say. Nothing that he understood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He curled his fingers into Osamu’s arm, trailing his eyes back on the screen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna didn’t need to look at Osamu to know he was objectively attractive to other people. With strong features that comes from doing a sport that is softer than his twin’s. Especially regarding the hair color. But when he was sleeping, he knew Osmau’s jaw fell slack and it was easy to tell how long his eyelashes were from that angle. It was easy to tell how someone could fall for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just harder to begin the fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been spendin’ time with him hm?” Akagi approached him one morning at the gates. Suna muffled his yawn with his sleeve before answering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, so what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His senior seemed to perk up at that. “Have ya fallen in love yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, don’t we all wish though? C’mon, dontcha feel a spark or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna stopped right in his tracks, causing the other to crash straight into him. He turned and grabbed the other’s shoulders. “A what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, y’know, like that pull, like a magnet towards someone? Something that attracts you to them, whether it be looks or personality.” Akagi stammered, “Dude you’re kinda scaring me. Chill, they say this in like every other cliche novel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you almost lost me there.” Suna pressed his fingers into his temples. “Just, nevermind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akagi put up a hesitant thumbs up, “Ya got this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Four was the number of deaths in the legends, not that Suna believed in such superstitions. The only thing he knew at that point in time was he was stuck with excuses to visit so he went to such lengths to visit the store before heading over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whaddya bring this time?” Osamu nodded towards the bags.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna yanked out a bag of rice out of the bag, “You heard me the first time. You’re lucky they sell small bags because no way in hell I was going to lug those huge ones over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu hummed in appreciation, “Y’know, I was just thinkin’ of rice, how’d u know?” He smirked, “Do ya think it’s fate? Or are ya reading my mind? Oh no--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, your grocery list is literally on your fridge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt a hand lightly slap his shoulder. “Oh, well thanks for the mood kill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna snorted lightly, “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Though ya could’ve left the groceries to Tsumu y’know? He’s lazy enough as is, playing around every week with different people, sheesh. No wonder his love life is in shambles.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Says you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “But thanks Sunarin, how about ya stay for dinner, my treat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get to eat some of Osamu’s infamous food?” Suna joked, “Of course I’d stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only if ya help make it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna rolled his eyes, “My pleasure, chef Osamu.” He wandered around the kitchen island to pull out a cutting board. He’s been there enough times to know the relative location of everything. Maybe not where every single ingredient was, but he could help prep. “What are we making today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few vegetables were tossed precariously in his direction, “We’ll wing it, chop it up would ya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged, “Sure, whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya always got my back. C’mon, let’s just have some fun, create a random ass dish, who cares, we’re the ones eating it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose you’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu moved over to the far counter and flipped on a music player before setting to work himself, measuring out the rice and setting it in the rice cooker. His sleeves were rolled up and he moved with ease from the stove over to Suna where he grabbed some ingredients and went back to the fire. Rummage around the cabinets for spices, and back to the fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was soothing, to see the other do something so normal. If he tried hard enough, Suna could’ve convinced himself the whole Hanahaki thing was a lucid dream and this was how it was supposed to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as Osamu came over to grab another set of ingredients, their hand brushed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And like that, it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>spark</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but more like an electrical one on Osamu’s half as he looked like he was zapped, backing from the cutting board with hesitant steps before entirely bending over the sink, turning it on to drown out the sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Osamu--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m good,” he motioned towards the stove. Suna frowned but went over to the stove, making sure to turn down the fire until the chef returned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He returned to the sink, which was already shockingly void of flowers. Osamu wasn’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> at hiding the flower, he was an expert at this point. “I’m not looking, go ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I’m good,” Osamu panted, turning back around to meet Suna. “Nothin’ new.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it’s been happening for a while, Suna concluded. And Osamu was unfazed by it. He was about to turn back to his task when he noticed a blood smear on the other’s lips. Instinctively, he reached up and rubbed the spot with his fingers gently. It came off onto his finger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was something on your cheek,” he explained, finally meeting Osamu’s eyes that darted away from his. There was a faint flush climbing up Osamu’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, um, can ya look away quickly--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He averted his eyes as the water droned out the noise again. “The rice should be done soon,” he excused himself, “I’ll go plate everything else, just let it all out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later, they ate said dish together, sitting side by side on the sofa. Osamu broke the silence first, leaning onto Suna’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yer a real one, Sunarin. A real friend. I’m glad yer here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re here too.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>For now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The mood was entirely set, it was perfect for a confession. It was perfect to tell Osamu he liked him too, it was perfect to end this Hanahaki once and for all. He set down his bowl and faced Osamu, staring right into those honey brown eyes. “Osamu--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so close, but when he looked into those eyes, the doubt swirled in his stomach. Osamu had said he was fine. They just cooked together, he could still move just like anyone else. And those eyes were so trusting in him. So much trust in someone like him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned away, deflecting, “I should get going soon. Thank you, for dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And like that, the moment was gone. Osamu set down his bowl too, “Of course, thanks for droppin’ by, I’ll walk ya out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he went down the steps to the sidewalk, Suna turned back, only to see Osamu waving, leaning against the doorframe, and sending him a lopsided smile. And he wanted to scream, to do something, to grab the other and yank those flowers out of his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that simply wasn’t what was fated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So nothing happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you visiting him?” Riseki scratches the back of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many people are going to ask me this? Yes I am.” Suna groaned, not at his teammate but just in general, he was sick and tired of hearing the same thing. It wasn’t as if magically he could feel something. In fact, if it were that easy, hell he’d wish he could. If all it took was the exchange of something for his ability to love, he’d take it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just curious, what are ya getting so defensive over?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna stared longingly at the floor, “Nothing personal, it’s just frustrating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riseki cocked his head to the side, “Hm, which part?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” From keeping it a secret that he knew to bringing himself to feel something. To everyone’s expectations to him and a life in his hands. There was a reason he never wanted to go into the medical field; too many lives in his hands that he couldn’t tend to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I getchu, sorta.” The bell rang. “Well take care, Suna.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Title is from the Euchloe Tagis Butterfly aka Portuguese dappled white who are attracted to iberis flowers. Thought that was fitting.</p><p>This is sort of a study on Love because these are truly some of the things I’ve heard before. And it’s not easy to understand, I don’t understand it myself. So yes, maybe this is a self-insert? At first I had one more love analogy but figured that was way too much so yeah...</p><p>Honestly, only split into three chapters for convivence sake. I'm posting this all now. So what am I doing in the middle of the night?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Iberis umbellata</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Visit after visit, he had to bear witness to Osamu’s suffering. It became more and more evident week after week how much Hanahaki was wearing on the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was more constant visits to the trash bucket and sloppier cover ups. It was how petals littered the floor more and more as if Osamu didn’t have the energy to clean them up anymore. But it was also how he looked, that rosy complexion gone even if he remained beaming every time Suna came. And Suna forced a half smile back every time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But eventually, he was tired of looking away every time and hiding this secret.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to hide the flowers. I know it's me, you’re dying because of me,” he bluntly stated one afternoon, gesturing at the bucket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu looked up, bewilderment clouding his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply as more flowers overfilled from those lips, spilling over his bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And his mind flashed back to those eyes, just weeks prior looking at him with such trust. Sighing deeply, he simply told the truth. “Atsumu got a hold of your flowers and the team knows. Sorry, for not telling you.” Sometimes the truth hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After you went to the hospital.” He scooted in closer, resting a hand on Osamu’s, almost begging the other to understand through his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That long ago hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was this a mistake? “Osamu please--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was met with an icy glare. A look that didn’t suit Osamu’s face. “So has all of this been out of pity?” In the year and a half that he’s known Osamu, he’s never seen anything close to that. Just being the victim of those eyes sent chills through his blood. It was dangerous to tread in these waters, he knew he was taking a risk in honesty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not entirely, I was trying. You have to understand. I just--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu swatted his hand away angrily. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Trying? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can’t fucking believe it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand was left hovering in the air. “Just listen, I’m just saying you don’t need to hide it from me anymore, I thought it’ll be more comfortable for you.” He grit his teeth, “I don’t know, alright? You think I have any fucking clue how to handle Hanahaki?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands fell, clutching hopelessly onto the blankets. “Osamu, just hear me out, fuck, I’m not giving up on you. I’ll never give up on you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pressed his lips together. “Give me a chance. Give me a chance to learn how to love. Give me a chance to get to fix everything I’ve done. And if that doesn’t work, on behalf of the entire team, I’m asking you to get them removed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu didn’t even look at him anymore. He felt like a ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know where the door is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Defeat. Complete and utter defeat, he stood up, pretending his hands weren’t shaking as he made his way down the steps and to the door. There’s no going back now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you also here to criticize me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His captain looked taken aback by his tone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, Kita-san.” He apologized quickly, bowing. “There’s just a lot on my mind right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand. But no, I’m not choosing sides. Just remember, the burden isn’t yours to carry alone. The team is here for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I’m the one killing him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, taking a large gulp of his water, letting it trickle down his throat slowly to buy time. Thing is, he knew the longer he waited, the longer Osamu was in pain. The longer he took to figure out what the hell love was, the closer Osamu was to death. But all his theories so far have been wrong. He didn’t fall for the surface level nor feel that fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatcha thinking about? Something’s on your mind, it shows.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re more observant than most.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita smiled knowingly, “I’m your captain after all. So, what’s on your mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned back until all that was in sight were the pipes streaming across their ceiling. How bland. “If honesty isn’t getting me anywhere, what do I do, Kita-san?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. It depends.” Kita began, “Anyone would say this situation is odd to say the least. But I think honesty is still the answer. Alongside time. From what I can see, Osamu can be brash, headstrong, without realizing it and acting on his passions more than he thinks. Give him time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And as always, communication is key. Everyone has their own perspectives and experiences; those are things that cannot be changed. Focus on things ya can change, like the future.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for but Kita saying it sounded like it made a lot of sense. Well, maybe that was a little biased since it was Kita.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what if lying could solve everything? Would you lie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kita blinked a few times, humming in consideration. “Personally, no. But if it solves the problem, I don’t see any problem with doing so. If it’ll save a life, I’d lie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Suna pondered, “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, we’re here for ya.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So while time was not on his side, he gave Osamu time. He went a week without visiting, silently turning off his phone with the excuse of studying for upcoming exams. That much was true and Atsumu couldn’t call him out for bullshit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least he planned on taking that route until he received a text from Atsumu: </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s not doing well. I dunno how long he’ll last.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That day after, he dashed over to the Miya household, banging on the door until it opened up. Osamu raised an unamused eyebrow as if expecting him to leave. If that wasn’t enough of a sign, Osamu didn’t even motion for him to enter nor did he leave the doorway he was blocking. Well, no time to get comfy with privacy he guessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like you,” he blurted out. “I like you, Osamu. Will you go out with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an unassuming afternoon when Suna muttered those words. Osamu’s eyes widened ever so slightly. And for a split second, he thought that was it. It was over. The nightmare was over. But as Osamu opened his mouth to reply, petals came spilling out again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing warily at them, he began to laugh. A dry humorless laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no hiding anymore, the candytuft fluttered out into the wind, helplessly dancing their way across the sidewalk. But that also meant Suna, for the first time, saw how beautifully devastating Hanahaki looked on another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rintarou</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I might believe that, but the flowers know better. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” He spat out, quite literally and figuratively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He vaguely remembers searching up how Hanahaki was cured last night. Requited love or the operation. From that, he’d just assumed a confession was enough to convince the flowers they weren’t needed anymore.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I thought that’s all it took.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu frowned, “Look, the flowers started bloomin’ before I even realized it. It’s not something I can consciously control, it just knows. It can tell this love is unrequited. Ugh, I dunno what I’m saying. Just, don’t bother if it ain’t true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never took you for a liar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna focused his eyes on the floor. Osamu continued, “I knew long time ago that ya didn’t, no wouldn't love me. It’s fine. I’ll die like this.” He chuckled, but it sounded forced. A light hand brushed his forehead. He peeked up and witnessed a tragic scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tear trickled down Osamu’s face, “I’m sorry, for getting mad a week ago. I know ya were ignoring me. Only made it worse y’know. I can’t stay mad at you because I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed Osamu lightly through the door, closing it behind them for some privacy. It was only them in the house right now. Thankfully so because he didn’t want to break down in front of company. He reached his own hand up, interlacing his fingers with Osamu’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t you get the surgery?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you try to love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An unexpected question. But enough lies. “Because I can’t.” It felt right on his tongue. Unlike all those lies he had told prior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I can’t lose these feelings of mine and still be me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fell silent, tracing circles on Osamu’s hand. It was warm compared to his, a tad bit smaller, roughed up from volleyball. But, their hand slotted together so nicely, and he wondered, in another world, would they have been destined to meet. In another world, would he be able to love Osamu back. That’s a world for someone else to create.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those thoughts sounded so foreign. Since when did he care about alternate realities when the one he was in was right here? He wasn't giving up on Osamu, he was compromising.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does it feel like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu glanced up, “Hm, loving ya? It’s too complicated to tell ya. I dunno. If anything, I’d say it’s overwhelmin’ but entirely right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds abstract as fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That earned him a genuine laugh. “Love ain’t easy. To feel or to pursue y’know. Or ya probably don’t know, my bad. But either way, everyone finds it differently, I was just thinkin’ the first thing that popped up in my head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you laugh at me if I told you I asked parts of the team what love was like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, unless it was Tsumu, his advice is shitty. There’s nothing wrong with askin’ other people for opinions though. And there’s nothin’ wrong with how ya feel. I fell for ya the way yer you. Nothing wrong about ya, well maybe except that hair, defies physics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He self-consciously reached to comb through his hair, “You’re such a jerk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu leaned in, resting his forehead on Suna’s. “I know. I know, Sunarin. If ya think that so much, put it in my eulogy, aight? Promise me ya won’t pity me when I die. I’m glad I loved ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he could offer was a shaky nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the last time he felt Osamu’s warmth. Two days later, Osamu was sent to intensive care. He could no longer breathe without tubes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna’s shoes clicked down the hallway of the hospital. He reached the room, peering through the glass sliver that wasn’t blocked by a curtain. Someone else was already in there when he creaked open the door. Tired brown eyes glared at him, reflecting the moonlight.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They have the same eyes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You came.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t I?” Suna grabbed a seat, moving it over next to Atsumu. Osamu’s eyes were closed, resting peacefully for the first time in weeks. It would have been peaceful, with the blue hues of the moonlight and the dim hospital ones, if not for the tubes going every which way and the constant beep of the machines in the background. The atmosphere was heavy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you been here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu squinted at the wall clock. “Dunno, lost track of time.” But based on how exhausted Atsumu looked, Suna could assume it was quite a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was about to say something when Atsumu held up a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’m not apologizing for shit, but,” Atsumu frowned, voice raw, watching the monitors beep slowly. “I love him ya know. I’ve never loved anyone more than him.” He raised his arms in mock surrender. “I know yer thinking I know love much better than ya, but not really. I don’t love the people I date for one week. If one of them got Hanahaki for me, I probably would do the same as ya.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused, brushing his hand over Osamu’s forehead. “But I love my brother. Without him, I don’t know what I’ll do. Would I know love without him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna watched in silence as silent tears dripped down Atsumu’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, we bicker like children, but when mom and dad weren’t around, we stood up for each other. I’m the older one, I’m supposed to protect him. There were always things in my control, y’know? If he wanted high tosses one day but low tosses the other, I could manage that. If we got in a fight, I could control how hard I pulled my punches. If we got in trouble, I could redirect the blame from him. But this?” He shook, biting his lower lip, “I couldn’t do anything. Ya know how fucking terrible that feels?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be anymore.” Atsumu conceded. His eyes reflected the steady beat of the machine. “Now that yer here, excuse me for a bit, I look disgusting right now. Stay by his side, I’ll be back.” He never knew he needed Atsumu’s trust until then. He was trusted with the person Atsumu loved the most. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He agreed easily, settling down next to the bed. “Osamu, I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no reply. He would never receive a reply. Unless. His mind whirled back to weeks prior. The notes. He whipped around, rummaging around the dark blindly until his hand bumped into a device. He had to know, what was Osamu typing? There was no better time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressing Osamu’s cool fingers on the home button, he quickly flipped to the notes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, there were normal notes, passwords and lists. And then he stumbled across a folder titled “My life is in your hands.” How poetic. It opened up to names, tons and tons of names with people he didn’t even recognize. He found his at the bottom, the first one created.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shakily, he tapped. And began to read. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey Sunarin,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you’re getting this, I guess I’ve passed on. I’m writing messages to everyone because I’d feel bad if I don’t y’know? But to you especially. I’m even writing this one before I write Atsumu’s, so don’t come for me when he gets mad. Hah, he’s such a child. I’m gonna miss him. At least now he can really say he doesn’t have a twin when I’m gone. God, that’s some dark humor. Hm. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, it’s fine. I long gave up on being anything but his shadow. I gave up on being the best long ago and accepted second place. Just like I’m giving up on living.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For the longest time, I was confused why I had Hanahaki. There were people I liked, but I didn’t think it was that out of proportion to need flowers in my fucking lungs. But as I laid there in bed one day, I had a thought. I miss going to school. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was a dumb comment. At first I was shocked at that thought. Fucking hated the school system, we all know that. Like who’s going to tell me about imaginary numbers. Grades? To scale people on intelligence? Ugh. Dumb. Yeah, you get the point.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So I thought about it, what the hell was that thought. Then I understood, I missed school because I missed hanging out with you. I missed practicing with you, eating lunch with you, walking to the station together, teasing you. I missed your smirks, your sarcasm, your eyes. I missed the fleeting touches we had that were nothing but casual up till now. I missed the way I could recognize you from your footsteps. I missed you. Everything about you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I knew my love was always going to be unrequited.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know how to describe what love feels like to you. I want to say it’s like seeing color for the first time, but I have no idea what that’s like. I just assume that’s similar. Either way, there doesn’t need to be a definition in my opinion. But yet I went through a year of pining, can you imagine that? More than a year holy crap. I meant what I said when I first met you, even though I made a fool of myself. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That memory, I ask you to recite it to me so many times because sometimes I wonder if it’s just me that remembers. Maybe all those times I thought meant something more, were just normal to you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But then I see you, by my side, and I think it’s silly I thought those things.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m selfish enough to have wanted a future with you, and seeing as that will no longer be possible with flowers in my lungs, I wish you well. Even if you won’t ever love, I hope you find happiness with someone. I hope someone will stand with you, understand you. Because behind that stoic face, you’re the most gorgeous person I know.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Live for you, not for me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because are you really living if you do so for someone else?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-- Osamu</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, this is the first draft, and that ending is sappy as hell. I don’t mean to come off as so sappy. I’ll probably come back and edit this when I can think better. The oxygen thing isn’t really helping me typing this hah. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well see ya.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you can hear me,” Suna whispered, collapsing on his feet. “I wish I could see you soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands raked at the sheets, at the wires, tangling themselves into whatever he could hold. To ground him, to hold him in place. To hold him from breaking into tiny little shards that would hurt anyone willing to get close to him. Why did getting close to himself feel like walking on glass pieces?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Save me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu returned to hold him gently, “I know, Sunarin. I know.” They sat there until the clock ran through time and the whole room turned quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even the machines. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it wrong, that after all this, all he felt was a faint tingling in his hands? Like he could still feel the tingling of the cables and bedsheets. And every time he felt alright, his hands would reach out and want, need something to hold onto. Was it wrong that he couldn’t bring himself to cry at the wake? Even as he brought Osamu’s unlocked phone and let everyone read their respective messages. Was it wrong of him to curl up in bed each night and wonder what if he could’ve loved? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he looked down at his chest, he wouldn’t ever have flowers blooming there. He would never be part of the statistics that fell victim to that disease. And even if he wished he could feel, Suna knew it wasn't for him anymore. Yet it felt less like letting go off a cliff. It felt more like lying on the beach and waves crashing over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even so, it’s possible to drown on the low tide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>⤬🎕⤬</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Food for thought: Suna isn’t this cold in canon at least to me, but what if he had Hanahaki before, got it removed, and became like that. And he says he’s never loved before because he’s forgotten. For who? Idk, I didn’t write it with this intention but possible interpretation </p><p>Side note: I didn’t mean for this to be sad,,, it was supposed to be steady paced, expected and dull, but I might've failed at that...</p><p>Anyway, I'm posting this and running away from responsibility, also might fix tagging and stuff later, gnight &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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